For a long time, Han Li remained motionless, but suddenly, he raised his right hand and extended a single finger. This strange gesture seemed inexplicable at first, but soon, something extraordinary happened. A subtle fluctuation in space appeared just above the tip of his finger, and with a brief flicker, a few sparks ignited into existence. The sparks rapidly swirled and expanded into a small, walnut-sized fireball, its bright red glow emanating intense heat that filled the entire room.
Han Li, still lying on the chair with the book over his face as though he were sleeping, seemed oblivious to the small fireball hovering just above his finger. Its crackling sound was the only indication of movement, contrasting sharply with his stillness.
Minutes ticked by, and the fireball continued to burn fiercely without any sign of fading. But gradually, Han Li's body began to tremble. It started with his finger, but soon his wrist, his entire arm, and eventually his whole body began to shake as the strain from maintaining the fireball grew.
Suddenly, Han Li shot upright from the chair, the book falling to the floor without him noticing. His eyes were locked on the small fireball, his face flushed with exertion. Sweat beads appeared on his exposed skin from his forehead to his neck, as if he had just finished a vigorous workout, his body radiating warmth.
As the fireball continued to flicker and fluctuate, its size expanding and contracting wildly, Han Li's body trembled more intensely. Finally, the fireball shrank to a tiny spark and vanished into the air, leaving no trace.
The moment the fireball disappeared, Han Li collapsed back into the chair, exhausted as if he had just completed an intense physical task. He lay there, breathing heavily, clearly drained.
"This Fireball Technique is harder to master than I thought," Han Li muttered to himself, staring at the ceiling. "I've been researching it for almost half a year, and I've barely extended its duration a little bit."
The source of his frustration was the "Changchun Gong" manual, which contained more than just cultivation techniques. On the last few pages, it recorded several basic spells, techniques that seemed to be beginner-level for a cultivator. Han Li had been ecstatic upon finding them, especially since, after witnessing some of Mo Dafu's magical feats, he had become incredibly interested in the powerful and mysterious spells.
However, despite having reached the peak of the sixth level of Changchun Gong, Han Li found himself like a beggar with a golden bowl—he had the power but lacked the ability to properly wield it. He had no knowledge of spellcasting, and even the most basic principles of magic were completely foreign to him. It was at that point that Han Li found the ancient techniques hidden within the manual, offering him a glimmer of hope.
Among the techniques recorded in the book were the Fireball Technique, the Spirit Binding Talisman, the Wind Control Spell, the Object Manipulation Technique, and the Heavenly Eye Spell. Each of these spells was written in ancient and obscure language, making them difficult to comprehend. Han Li's knowledge of ancient texts was limited, and although he had read many books, he struggled to fully understand the deep meanings behind these complex words.
To solve this, Han Li threw himself into a sea of ancient texts, dedicating countless hours to decoding the words and phrases. He meticulously studied each line, sometimes reading them dozens of times to ensure that he grasped their true meaning. He understood that a single misstep in these teachings could lead to catastrophic results, far more dangerous than a cultivation deviation.
After three months of tireless research, Han Li finally managed to understand the theory behind the spells. The next step was practical application. However, this proved to be much more difficult than he anticipated.
Han Li had expected to pick up spellcasting quickly, much like he had learned the Blinking Sword Technique in the past. But to his dismay, he was extremely clumsy when it came to casting magic. Even when he understood the principles, his attempts at performing the spells often failed. His hand movements were incorrect, he mispronounced the incantations, or his spiritual energy simply wasn't enough to fuel the spells properly. Despite his deep understanding, his execution was dismal.
After much frustration, Han Li came to a conclusion—he simply wasn't naturally gifted with magic. His talents in cultivation were undeniable, but spellcasting seemed to be a different realm entirely. With this realization, Han Li focused all of his energy on the two spells that he had managed to master: the Fireball Technique and the Heavenly Eye Spell.
After weeks of effort, Han Li made significant progress. The Fireball Technique exceeded his expectations, and its power was much greater than he had initially thought. Despite its small size, the fireball's temperature was so high that it could burn almost anything to a crisp. Even steel weapons, upon contact with the fireball, would melt instantly, turning into molten metal.
To test the fireball's capabilities further, Han Li threw one onto the surface of a body of water. To his amazement, the fireball ignited the water immediately, causing it to burn as though it were oil, without any sign of being extinguished by the water. This test revealed just how terrifying the Fireball Technique truly was.
In that moment, Han Li finally understood why cultivators like Yu Zitong looked down on mortals. A simple spell like the Fireball Technique, when wielded by a cultivator, could easily obliterate the most skilled martial artists. Imagine what someone with greater cultivation could do—sweeping through the mortal realm with ease, leaving no one standing in their wake.
The disparity in power between cultivators and mortals was staggering, and Han Li could now see why someone like Yu Zitong could treat the world's strongest warriors with such disdain. A single spell like Fireball could make all the difference between life and death, and Han Li was beginning to appreciate the vast gulf between those who practiced cultivation and those who didn't.